But Baby, it's Cold Outside
by TheCrackParade
Summary: Frank and Gerard's first New York Christmas
1. Chapter 1

"Christmas is going to bomb this year." Gerard threw his cigarette onto the surface and stepped on it after having switched it between his lips and fingers for the last eight minutes. "It's not going to 'bomb'_. _It's just going to be _different,_" I put emphasis on the word 'different' in such a way he lifted his hung head to reveal two saddened eyes behind a mop of dark, greasy hair. "I'm sure we can have a great time even if we aren't at home. Besides, being at home brings back too many embarrassing memories…" I trailed off as moments with turkey disasters and festive heartbreak came flooding into my mind all at once. Gerard squinted at the New York skyline. I could just about make out the silhouette of tonnes of larger-than-life skyscrapers as the blinding rays of light shone down onto the streets below. It was late November and the sun was still as bright as ever, but that didn't mean it was warm. Frost still laced the rooftops and car hoods; it still glazed the pavements and roadsides. Central park looked gorgeous from the top of this giant rock. Nobody else, apart from Gerard and I, were around to witness it, but it was magical all the same. Light reflected off the ice that coated the branches of bare trees. I had to lift a pale, limp hand to my brow to shade my vision. All of a sudden, Gerard's prominent, sharp features became clearer as I faced him, in all their perfect glory. The sun had slipped behind the rows of buildings. The night air was slowly creeping into my jacket. I felt like holding onto Gerard for warmth, embracing the smell of cigarettes and toxic hair dye. My scarf was practically strangling me.

"Come on Gee, let's go home." Gerard let out a sigh as he scrambled to his feet and pretty much slid down the peak of the stone before I could have said '_Mississippi._ I just stood up and cupped my now gloved hands around my mouth and called down to him, "Hey, you idiot wait for me or I swear to God-" Before I could finish my sentence he was already running down the pathway. I shimmied down from the height (clumsily falling most of the way down) and scrambled down the path after him. I skidded across the ice and almost fell flat on my face several times. I could see the street lights slowly being illuminated as I passed them. It was so surreal. Gerard wasn't the faster out of the two of us and he never had been. Back in high school he would always skip gym to smoke and draw alone behind the bike sheds. That also happened to be where students would break the 'No-Touching' rule so he would often have to find somewhere else to be at peace. I was the champion runner, sport was my thing up until 9th grade where I kind of just gave up, I guess.

I finally caught up to Gerard and jumped onto his back, impulsively, wrapping my legs around his waist, just for a second, until we both fell to the ground in a pool of laughter. I was sure if I died right then, I would have died a happy man. "FRANK, GET OFF ME!" Gerard's screams were muffled. I realised he was suffocating under my butt. "Admit that I'm the greatest, and then I'll let you go." I almost-whispered out of breath and panting. It felt just like being a kid again, messing about in the yard. I could feel Gerard gasping for breath and shuffling. He was slightly bigger than me in build so, most expectedly, he pushed me off and pinned me down. We were so close, face-to-face; skin touching, noses only millimetres away from each other. I could feel his warm breath battle the chilly breeze of the evening, on my neck. We spent a few seconds, seconds that seemed like hours, just staring into the others eyes. The milky, brown-greens in his so much more expressed than I remembered. You could tell he was troubled, his face was so lost and worn. He was gasping for breath and about to cough. My cheeks flashed pink.

Abruptly, a large frown emerged from his teeth and slithered to his lips. He picked himself off the ground as we both realised we were two grown men in the middle of a park walkway play fighting like five year olds. It was almost pitch-black, with just a few lamps lighting the way. I wondered when the sky had grown so dark. The giggles had stopped and I had regained my breath as I stood up and sighed. Gerard smirked right at me. "Come, on Frankie, let's go."

We walked side by side, bumping into each other more than we would have liked. I would have thought I was covered in bruises by the end of it. Gerard and I were the kind of people who would tend to sway to one side whilst walking, and unfortunately we collided often. I had to keep my hands in my leather coat pockets, even though I had gloves on. I could see my breath in the cold atmosphere. It was awfully childish but I felt like a dragon and sniggered at the thought. "What you thinking about?" Gerard pondered, still facing forward as we travelled. I blushed and looked at him, his perfect face shining in the streetlights glow. I blushed, for the second time in the last thirty minutes as cause of Gerard. I shook my head as if to say _'nothing',_ to cover up my immature thought pattern.

Gerard turned the key in the keyhole and I walked in before him as he locked up. He always _**had **_to lock up because of his paranoia and how OCD he was about things like that. He was the reason we had two locks, two peepholes, an alarm by the door, a burglar alarm and a chain. After he had locked the locks and set the alarms (and hooked the chain), without words, he slumped on the sofa, threw his head back and sighed the loudest sigh I had ever heard. It almost shook the apartment. I raised my eyebrows, as my nose twitched. Setting my keys on the kitchen counter, I panned the flat.

It was almost like a small room with small walls filled with photos of both our families and friends. A small green fern sat in the corner, barely alive, although I couldn't recall when exactly we had bought it. A faded orange couch slumped in the middle of the floor in front of our little TV (which was currently playing a re-run of _Gossip Girl_). Our breakfast bar wasn't far from the couch; it was marble and was parallel with the kitchen counter, which curved in an 'L' shape. Various kitchen appliances covered the counter and if I hadn't tidied up this morning, it would probably look like a catastrophe. I could see the many dishes that overflowed from the sink so I let out a large groan. "Gerard! When are you going to do the dishes? I told you to do them yesterday!" I nagged him although he was lying on the couch so that I could only see his legs hanging off the side. A chubby, pinkish hand popped out from behind the sofa back and flapped about as if to gesture _'don't worry, I'll do it later.'_ You'd think we were a married couple, the way we argued and how I pestered Gerard to do things and he procrastinated around them. But alas, we were just sharing an apartment; two kids who'd graduated high school as best friends, grown up and decided to move to the Big Apple together to fulfil their dreams. I'd always opted for a musical career, and sometimes I played gigs down in the local coffee house, but Gerard, well what can I say about Gerard? He preferred to just paint alone in his room on the easel he had gotten for his birthday a couple of years ago. He was so talented I thought that someday he would have his own gallery.

But in between chasing our dreams, we had to earn money. So I busted tables at the nearby diner and Gerard was a secretary at a fashion magazine company in the city. It was easy to get to work with the subway and all, but I wanted more. **WE **wanted more. Gerard never liked to admit it but I knew he didn't want to be a secretary forever.

I fiddled about with the stove until a flame burst out of the hob. Just as I was about to boil some water, the doorbell rang. I jumped, startled and held my hand to my heart, letting out a sigh as Gerard got up to open the door. He landed with a thud as he jumped off the sofa (he never had been all that graceful) and stumbled towards the front door. Gradually, he opened the worn wooden door and a squeal escaped his lips like pressurized gas. Once again, I was taken aback, this time I nearly fell over onto the still-lit cooker. I spun around immediately and turned it off. "Who is it, Gee?" I asked looking around the door as I walked towards my ecstatic roommate, throwing a kitchen towel over my shoulder. And guess who was standing there?


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Obviously, you probably noticed it's in Frank's POV and the whole thing will be** **I guess! :) I hope you like it! **

**~tara Xo**

It was Gerard's brother, Mikey-Fucking-Way. Gerard pounced on Mikey and gave him a hug that was heart-warming just to watch. Mikey stood there, just being hugged but as I let out a screech, Mikey dropped his suitcase and mutually wrapped his arms around Gerard. Gerard stepped out of Mikey's embrace and wiped the tear stains, which ran down his face like a veil of joy, with his sleeve. "Well, if it isn't Mikey Way all the way down from New Jersey! How are you man?" I felt humble somehow although my voice had sort of broken half way through greeting him as I leant forward for a hug, which resembled more of a pat on the back on Mikey's part. "I'm good, man! I haven't seen you in a while!" Mikey half shouted as he patted me on the shoulder and turned to his older brother, who was still speechless choking on tears by my side. Mikey hugged Gerard again. I picked up Mikey's bags without him asking when Gerard gestured towards the TV so I figured I should place them down beside the beat-up, old stained couch.

I handed some steaming mugs of coffee to both Gerard and Mikey as they nearly quite literally babbled away to each other about various brotherly things. After collecting my own beverage I pulled a foldable plastic deck chair out from where we usually kept them (behind the television set) and stared distantly at the two brothers. I just sat there and stared. I wasn't really listening, just nodding between sips of now lukewarm coffee and twitching every now and again. I was somewhere else, I wasn't in the apartment, I mean, physically of course I was, but emotionally I was somewhere else. Headlining at Madison Square Garden, just me and my guitar; but I didn't feel right being alone. I felt like Gerard should have been there too, not cheering me on, on stage with me, performing his little heart out.

"So, what do you say, Frank?" I was snapped out of my daydream. "Hmm?" I replied, pretty clueless. Gerard muttered some swears under his breath but I couldn't quite make out what they were. "How about we go Christmas shopping tomorrow, the three of us, nice and early?" Mikey smiled a smile warmer than my coffee, and confirmed to me what was going on. I nodded and patted Gerard on the knee as I got up and stretched my arms. "Listen, guys, I'm going to get an early night, I was working late yesterday." I half whispered. The two men nodded and Gerard got up to raid the fridge for beer. I sighed, shook my head and thought to myself _typical Gerard_. A lopsided smile attached itself to my face. I was content. Maybe I'd sleep well for once.

The morning brought bird song in the bustling urban jungle that was New York City. I turned over in my bed to check the time on the bedside, digital clock. Eleven 'O'clock. God, had I slept in that late? I was frantic. I jumped out of bed and tripped over my jeans which were strewn across the floor from last night. My room was always a mess. I grabbed my keys off the nightstand and burnt my hand on the metal lamp. Had it been on all night? I was afraid of the dark, I guess, after all the horror stories Gerard had told Mikey and I during our childhood sleepovers, where we would have competitions to see who could fit the most marshmallows in their mouth (Gerard held the record at 7) and tell ghost stories. I got scared shitless. But those days were over, now it was all about making a living, being independent and getting up for work then crashing on the couch at the end of the day; no fun and games just work, work and more work. Just as I was hopping around, trying to manoeuvre a sock onto my left foot, Gerard knocked at the door and grinned from ear to ear.

"Don't you remember? It's Christmas shopping today!" This was the happiest I'd seen him in weeks. I stuttered some unrecognisable words as Gerard pulled the house phone out of his pocket and shook it in the air, raising his eyebrows as if to hint at something. I still looked gormless so he sighed as I stood up straight and threw the phone to me. I caught it and nearly dropped it, fumbling about for a few seconds (with my jeans hanging off my waist lazily) as he let out a slight chuckle. "I called the diner. Somebody else will take your shift today." I smiled and with that he turned away but I heard him yell from the kitchen, something like _get ready _or _hurry the fuck up, Frank._ The second option was more than likely. I sat on the bed and giggled to myself. _Same old Gerard. _Pulling my sock on and my trousers up as I went, I made my way into the kitchen to see Gerard sipping slowly on a mug of fresh coffee and eyeing the TV. Mikey was reading a newspaper, sitting in our one and only bar stool at the breakfast bar partition counter with a barely touched bowl of cereal sitting, disappointed-looking, next to him. Mikey never finished breakfast. Not ever, not even once, had I known him to. I let another near-laugh out to myself. "Frank, move your ass out the way, God." Gerard moaned at me, taking a bite out of an apple and spewing chucks of it all over the bar, as I realised I was blocking his vision. I stepped out the way towards the cupboard, opened it and took out a box of _Lucky Charms._ I poured myself a bowl and parked myself on the couch, pondering alone as to why Gerard was still standing when a whole two thirds of the couch was free. Then I noticed he was jogging on the spot whilst watching the weather. Was it that exciting? I furrowed my brow in confusion. Was the weather that exiting? I decided to let this one pass.

The forecast predicted snow which was awesome because it brought back so many flashes of snowball fights in the local park with the Way brothers an building a snowman with Mikey, only to have it destroyed by Gerard in his new red snow boots (ones that he was overly proud of). I smiled to myself. I'd been doing a lot of that recently, just all these memories that came back that I didn't want to share with either Mikey or Gerard as they may have thought I was weird. I rested my cereal in my lap and stared across the room at my guitar, which was standing in the corner all alone. It made me smile. Hell, everything made me smile. It was that kind of a day. A day where I could wake up late and wear a baggy _Motörhead _t-shirt (borrowed from Gerard) and a roughed-up pair of jeans I'd been wearing all week and not care how I looked. A day that I could wear my hair all scruffy and smell like 3 cans of deodorant because the hot water bill was never paid so I couldn't take a shower (due to a certain roommate of mine). It was the kind of day I could spend with the two best guys in the world. It was a good day.

As we were ready to leave, all suited and booted in gloves and scarves, with coats that made us look twice out size and boots that, to my liking, made me two centimetres taller, Gerard rushed into his bedroom to get something. I thought it would be his wallet or keys or something but he came towards Mikey and I with a bag. It had what seemed to be two boxes in it. He held the bag out to us with two hands and blushed, turning away. I took the bag out of his hands and opened it with enough room for both Mikey and I to peer in. How cute!


	3. Chapter 3

Inside the bag were two, tiny, messily wrapped parcels. They were covered in brown paper, the kind you would wrap a parcel in before you post it, tied with a thin, beige string. They were each about as big as my palm, no bigger. "I couldn't wait until Christmas, so here's a little something before I get you your _real _gifts." Gerard sighed as he air-quoted the word 'real'. I just stood there, eyes glistening as Mikey let out a casual breath of laughter to nobody in particular. I just stared in wonder at the bag as Gerard took it back and opened the handles out wide so we could dive in. I pulled the parcel that had Frank scribbled on a label taped to it and Mikey grabbed his. We simultaneously started to tear at the paper and string (although Mikey seemed to do so with more elegance about him), as Gerard watched us with eager eyes and nervous, shaky hands that shone with sweat in the bright light that emitted from the white, winter sky outside. I parted the wrapping on the gift to reveal something small and dark.

It was a black guitar pick with 'Frank' engraved in the middle. I was taken aback, and by such a tiny sentiment. "It's for when you make it big, so you never forget me, even when you leave to go be famous…" Gerard trailed off and blushed as he beamed at me but then suddenly hung his head and shuffled about in his jacket. I didn't know what to say so I just thanked him and turned my attention to Mikey, who had also opened his present. He lifted what looked like a piece of a stuffed animal of some sort. Mikey grinned, obviously it was pretty special. "What is it?" I asked naively, slightly confused, furrowing my brow. Gerard grinned once again as Mikey threw his hands around his brother. Gerard stepped back and explained. "It's the ear I ripped of Mikey's favourite teddy bear, Pandy, when we were kids. I told him that the neighbour's dog had eaten it…" Gerard looked guilty as Mikey punched him lightly on the arm, a small _thank you_ gesture.

"Cute," I chuckled (it really was adorable). "We better get going so we can beat the traffic." We headed down the stairs of the apartment building. I wondered as we walked, _why would Gerard have said I would leave him to become famous? _The thought plagued my mind like a swarm of bees, buzzing in my ears repetitively. We stepped into the parking lot where Gerard's old, red Mustang was parked. He was proud of the beaten up car although I found it all too embarrassing. It was a rusty car with tires that were practically flat and somewhere on the hood had Gerard's name carved into it along with some swears that he thought were cool at the time. The back of the car was dented quite badly and the interior was fairly worn. A dancing, bobble-head dog was stuck on the dashboard and the windscreen was slightly cracked on the side. The car door creaked as I opened it and got in the back seat, Mikey at the front with Gerard driving.

Half way through the journey, we realised we didn't know _**exactly**_ where we were going, we were just sort of, well, driving. "Hey," Mikey broke the silence that was completely necessary to Gerard when Queen came on the radio. "Let's go to the supermarket and pick up some stuff to bake a cake, just like Mom used to make." Gerard took a sharp turn which almost sent me flying through the window, and smiled. We all burst into laughter as Mikey bumped his head on the car roof. I'd never been so happy in years.

We came to a sudden halt at the supermarket, the Mustang making a strange noise and releasing a whole load of smoke from the exhaust, and walked into the store. The aisles were stacked to their fullest with canned and packaged goods, painting a rainbow on the clinically white walls and shelves. Festive decorations were hung on the ceiling, Christmas charity collection boxes were on every till and a giant inflatable Santa, not properly inflated, stood lifelessly by the door. This was Christmas, all right. Mikey had already scampered off into the shop and disappeared in the commotion of other last-minute Christmas shoppers whereas Gerard and I decided to roam the store with no purpose. I walked beside my friend, hands in my pockets, shivering as we passed the freezer aisle. The supermarket had always been a boring place that I would spend hours in when I was younger when my Mom had tried to compare prices on tinned fruit. I couldn't help but feel moody and depressed because I was allergic to half the food on the shelves. "Hey, look over there Frank!" Gerard pointed to a couple of unmanned shopping trollies in the bread aisle. I immediately knew what he was thinking as I ran for one and jumped onto it, sending it half way across the width of the shop with me on it. Gerard laughed and jumped on the other, nearly falling over. We both laughed this time. I ran with the trolley up the aisle (where nobody seemed to be as their attention had been caught by the dancing fundraising Rudolph at the other end of the supermarket) and jumped on it just as it was about to skid off across the dusty, plastic-covered floor. I giggled as Gerard circled me with his shopping cart and hung my head back, tears of joy streaming down my eyes. I felt so free I felt as if I had been born to die young. The tube lights above us flickered and grew dim to my eyes. Gerard put one hand on my trolley to stop me spinning out of control. The moment was electric.

"Frank! Gee!" Mikey called from across the store, he finally found us since the crowds had vanished. He waved his hand frantically as he balanced a bag of flour and some other baking things under his armpit, on his shoulder and under his chin. I started breathing heavily as the light started to flood back to my eyes and I was in the supermarket once again. We proceeded to the checkout where we were greeted by a cheery, young girl who looked about 19. He rosy cheeks matched the red trim on her festive Elf hat and the green highlights in her hair sparkled with glitter. "Why, hello there, Sir!" She spoke with a strong southern accent, and it annoyed me slightly. She started to ramble on something about how she had come to New York to pursue her dreams of being a famous country singer and how she could never 'catch a break' with a job at the checkout in a supermarket. "Oh, so you're just like Frank and I then!" I felt Gerard push me gently as I absent-mindedly watched Mikey bag his shopping and take some cash out of his wallet to hand to the girl. He got irritated (which was rare for Mikey) when the girl was lost in conversation with herself whilst making googly eyes at me as if she were love struck. I tried to pull the hood on my coat up to hide my face but Gerard just pulled it back down and tutted. Mikey finally handed her the cash and sighed when she short-changed him by a couple of cents.

As we left the girl was still practically drooling in my direction so I picked up the pace of my steps. It was a little creepy. Mikey carried the plastic shopping bag in one hand and examined the receipt with the other. He was chewing gum and had his glasses on, which usually meant he was deep in thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if she charged me three times on the flour." Mikey half-joked. "I thought she was nice, and she was totally smitten over you, Frankie!" Gerard smiled at me as we got into the car, as Mikey examined that receipt for the fifth time already. I snatched it out of his hand and crumpled it up in anger. I didn't want anybody to have a crush on me. I was better off alone. "I don't want to talk about her, **okay**!" I exclaimed abruptly, louder than I meant to. "Calm down, Frank. We were just messing with you," Mikey said, fear engulfing his regular voice. We were silent for the majority of the ride home.


	4. Chapter 4

Mikey dropped the bag on the counter as if it had weighed a tonne. Gerard crashed on the couch after locking up. Mikey sighed, "Gerard, you need to help me put this stuff away," he pointed to the bag slumped on the kitchen top. "I don't know which cupboard is for which." To be completely honest, I didn't know either. We never really went shopping let alone for food. I would always bring something back from the diner or, more than likely, we would go to bed without food. It was hard but we barely had two pennies to rub together. Gerard mumbled, although he enunciated every word sharply, cutting through the air with his tongue, whilst making hand gestures. He was irritated. "IT IS LAT-" Gerard was interrupted by Mikey throwing the little, rectangular digital clock (that resembled more of a brownish-beige colour rather than its original white) which read 4:00. It was getting darker earlier than usual. I then had a sudden reminder go off in my min. I rushed into the bathroom (which was next to my room) and emptied the laundry basket into a large, checked bag and rushed out the door. I could almost feel Mikey and Gerard's confusion come over myself.

It was hard to find a laundrette in New York; it was always just so busy and dangerous walking alone in the dark. Luckily we lived near a highly popular row of shops which wouldn't be shut until eleven at night or some would be open twenty-four hours, seven days a week. The city wasn't all big skyscrapers. We lived on the outskirts but it was still easy to catch the subway whenever we wanted to go to the places further in. There it was an illuminated sign that read '**24 HOUR SERVICE JOHNNY'S LAUNDRY**'. I peered through the glass front of the shop to see a large, heavily-built man who looked middle aged, with a thick, silver moustache and a silver hair on his head (well, what was left of it). He was wearing an apron and he was talking to a tall, thin woman who looked to be his wife. She was wearing an old-fashioned floral print dress and heels that weren't too tall that she would fall off of them. She wore her hair in a bun, held together with a pencil. I saw a small Christmas tree in the corner next to the furthest laundry machine. I took a deep breath and walked in. I didn't like meeting new people. A bell rang which startled me and the man and woman alike.

"H-H-Hello," I stammered. I wasn't great at first impressions. The lady smiled as the man walked up to me. Her smile comforted me as the man walked up to me and shook my free hand. Something about her felt homely and familiar. "Hello, young man! Let me take that for you!" The man's handshake was firm and he spoke with a husky, strong Russian accent. He took the bag off me and held one had against his back for support. I rushed over as he looked red in the face all of a sudden, as if he were about to faint. He gestured to me that he was alright, that I should back off and the lady rolled her eyes. I just noticed that, as the man was walking away, his name tag said 'Johnny' on it. He was the shop owner. The lady had a name tag too; it had 'Marie' written in neat handwriting. I walked over to the counter as the lady went into what looked like an office at the back.

I didn't say anything for the rest of my time there (it felt like about two and a half hours). The shop made me curious, its tiled floor that had several cracks in it, the painting of a dove that hung on the left wall and the family photo on the back of the door. I wanted to ask so many questions. Instead, I loaded the machine and waited for the clothes to be washed. I regretted that. I had forgotten detergent and softener but luckily there was some on a shelf over my head. I picked a magazine from the counter to read as I waited. There was an advert about a band that was touring so, naturally, I slipped into a daydream. I was in a band, touring the country, living life like I did earlier in the supermarket. I just wanted my friends and fame. Nothing else. I wanted my music. Just then, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. The sound knocked me out of my daydream. I took it out and looked at the screen. I had three missed calls from Gerard. Sighing, I chose 'Create New Message' and told Gerard I was doing laundry and I'd be home soon. He replied with a simple 'okay'.

After a quick run through the dryer, I left the cash on the counter, as Johnny and Marie seemed to be arguing, and I took the clothes and headed out. It was mostly Gerard's clothes but I thought I would do him a favour. I was in the festive, giving mood. I closed the door quietly when I noticed Mikey had crashed on the couch again. Why couldn't Gerard have let him have his bad? I guessed it was probably because of his embarrassing bedroom… I took the bag to his door and knocked. I couldn't tell what song it was, but music was blasting out of his room. The volume suddenly lowered and I heard him grunt so I poked my head past the door. Gerard was sat on the bed reading a comic book. He always had his nose buried in those comics. He looked about fifteen, the way he sat strewn across the bed in grey jogging pants a black t-shirt with the words 'Girls Suck' on it that he'd had since 8th Grade. I couldn't help but giggle. He turned the music back up on the silver stereo beside his bed with one hand and I raised my eyebrows. I was carrying the laundry bag on my shoulder and the weight was making it more agonizing by the second. "Laundry, Gerard!" I shouted over the obnoxiously noisy music, forgetting completely about Mikey but luckily, although surprisingly, he was a heavy sleeper. He pointed to the bed with a lazy, limp hand. I closed the door behind me as I walked deeper into the room. I was taken in by the posters plastered all over the ceiling and walls. I placed the bag on the bed and sat down next to it. Gerard moved his legs but groaned irritably as he did.

We'd always hang out there when we first moved in. It was hard to believe that was a year ago; it felt like longer. Gerard had the bigger room out of the two of us. Mine was plain compared to his, just a pile of furniture compared to his weird den. It was just like his room back in New Jersey (which his parents had most likely converted into a home gym by now). A tall cupboard stood in the corner by the window which had a windowsill seat attached to it. A little table and chair was collecting dust in front of me. All this furniture was from his family home. I tried to hold back tears as I felt the walls narrow around me, posters of obscure, foreign death-core bands and girls in swimsuits engulfed me. I was scared. I wanted to run away. I was getting all worked up while Gerard still had his nose stuck in the comic. I turned my whole body to face him, folding my legs on the bed opposite him. Where had the lost times gone? "How can you do this? Pretend you don't want more than this?" I raised my voice towards the end of my sentence. Gerard looked over his comic, ever so slightly, right into my eyes, the worry lines on his forehead more prominent than before. He chuckled but it wasn't a genuine laugh. _Typical emotional breakdown Frank._ "Are you serious, Frank? Not this bullshit again…"


	5. Chapter 5

I blushed, and not in the sense that I was embarrassed or flattered, I just flashed red because I knew where this was going. I just laughed and my voice turned high as I spoke. "You're just lazy, Gee, I was kidding with you." I took the remaining laundry that belonged to me as I walked out the room. That's the thing, I wasn't kidding. "Nice save…" I heard Gerard mutter under his breath as I left the room. He could read me like a book and the thought made me snigger. _Was I that easy to see through?_ Anyhow, I was tired and it was late. Plus, we all had to wake up early in the morning to go get presents tomorrow and beat the crowds of other late Christmas shoppers. I had to sleep.

The morning brought rays of sun through my window like long fingers, scratching at my face until I woke up. Squinting, I walked out my bedroom door, in only my boxers, and into the bathroom. It was cold and I was almost naked but I didn't care. It must have been about 6am and I could hear Mikey and Gerard snoring from where they were sleeping like babies. I looked in the mirror. _God, I wish I had a new face._ Some people think that only girls feel insecure about how they look, but I was scrawny, and ugly, like a stray cat, but the show must go on. I brushed my teeth and dragged myself half asleep back to my bedroom to get changed. Before I entered my room I could see Mikey, lying on his stomach and almost falling off the couch. He looked so uncomfortable but he never complained. His mouth was ajar and drool was spilling out. He looked so childlike it made me feel nostalgic, especially with the bird song outside the window.

As I was halfway through getting my t-shirt over my head, my cell phone rang. I pulled the shirt down over myself and answered the phone. "Hey, sweetie," a cheery voice boomed out the speakers but it was comforting all the same. I sighed, "Hey, Mom."

I didn't seem half interested in the call, even ten minutes in, but to be completely honest, I was just tired. Phone calls with my mother were always long and filled with boring, useless information about a wedding of a distant cousin she was invited to and what she was going to cook for dinner that night; but it was nice, it was nice to hear a familiar voice and it was nice to hear about her day and about how she had told my father to take out the garbage and he hadn't. When you live on your own (well, not completely but to a certain degree) in a big, strange city like New York, you can get caught up in yourself and forget the little things that make you whole, the details that complete your simple, although precious life. She went on for a while before she stopped and I could almost sense the look of worriedness on her face.

"What's the matter, Mom?" My lips quivered, I could tell it was going to be bad. She stammered and I heard something crash onto the floor in the background of our call; my mother tutted then she sighed. "Listen, Frank 'O' Lantern,' she called me by my nickname (themed around the fact that my birthday was on Halloween and that I had almost just my finger off carving a Jack 'O' Lantern when I was eight) and she only called me by my nickname when she was trying to be nice and comforting even though there was bad news. "We're moving house, to live further away from where you are…" She carried on talking about my father's new promotion out of state and that she wanted me to know that she loved me, pausing in-between for my reaction. I nodded along to the conversation and started to bite my nails without knowing. Soon I hung up and I didn't really know how I felt about it all. Slumping on my bed, back hunched, I put my socks on and thought; I wasn't really upset about my parents moving further away from New York, I was just so attached to that house. It was the house I'd grown up in, where my height had been marked out on the door frame every year since my first birthday, where I'd blasted old Misfits CDs out my speakers when I was mad after getting into a fight at school. It was the house where Gerard had dared me to smoke a cigarette in my room when we were sixteen and my dad found out, leading him to giving us both an hour-long lecture, the house where I had packed my bag and walked out that rust-red, weathered front door to head to New York City and fulfil my dreams. But it wasn't going to get me down, not today of all days.

As soon as I was dressed I zombie-walked towards the front door and leaned my elbows of the worktop. I liked to act like an idiot when nobody was around. The cupboards were almost bare except for a few slices of bread on the kitchen top. There was only enough for Mikey and Gerard so I decided to go without breakfast, but I popped the bread in the toaster for the others; I was being nice this season. Mikey was soon awake and I figured it was the smell of the almost burnt toast. He neatly folded his blanket and picked up his pillow to stash them under Gerard's bed. When he came out the room, around two minutes later, Gerard was trailing behind him, half asleep. They were talking about some comic book. I never had an interest in them but I pretended to understand. "Frank, what do you think, it's cool isn't it?" I didn't know how to answer Mikey so I just nodded with a stern expression and a bit of a pout. Mikey laughed and sat on our only bar stool. The orange glow of the luminous plastic had stayed even after Gerard had once spent a week just sitting there and watching TV, reading comic books etc. just to prove a point. At this point, Gerard was standing, half bent over the kitchen top. He cackled to himself and a smirk grew upon his face. His little, yellowish teeth showed from under the dark curtain of hair that hung from his brow.

"I can smell breakfast."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: hope you're all enjoying the story, promise it will get better even though it's boring :) **

**~tara Xo**

After Gerard had consumed around 5 glasses of orange juice and anything else we had left in our kitchen that wasn't being kept for Christmas, we headed out into the city by subway. I'd never been fond of public transport, and not for the reason that I thought I was too good for it, but that it made me so claustrophobic, to the point that I felt like throwing up. It was the office rush hour so we had to be quick to get a space that wouldn't have you crushed against the wall by people in suits with their 'important' (although probably useless) briefcases.

It was stuffy in the underground that particular day. I was sweating under my winter coat. Mikey jogged me as the train pulled up at the station and the three of us climbed in. I could feel a wave of anxiety come over me and I was clinging onto Gerard without even thinking, but he didn't seem to notice either. I looked around and noticed a man wearing a brown suit with a black bag that had papers hanging out of it slightly, holding a baby on his hip and swinging it gently. I wondered what kind of situation would have resulted in him taking his baby to work. I'd always wanted to be a dad in the future but I would worry about when exactly in the future I would have a child and I also worried about whether I'd ever find that special somebody to have a baby with. It troubled me a lot. Whilst these thought flew through my head, I found myself still holding onto Gerard's waist. _Shit. _He looked down at me and smiled. _Did he even realise? _I parted myself from him and cleared my throat. The journey seemed like endless days of listening to strangers coughing and the carriage screeching to a halt at each underground station, after that. I tried to break the awkward silence between Mikey, Gerard and I several times with some small talk about the weather but they just passed my conversation off with a tired grunt each time. I couldn't blame them; I was tired too, tired of everything.

We stepped out of the train with everybody else, and once we were over-ground again, I breathed in that gorgeous fresh air and let out a sigh of contentment. It felt nice not feeling so trapped. Lights covered Times Square and it was so busy there was no time to time to gawk at it all. It was surreal how we had lived in New York City for so long but we had never gone into the city, just for fun, only on business, that's why we were in Central Park the other day, we both had job interviews (even though I didn't really want an office job, although I didn't want to be a busboy forever. I looked up at the sky; it was grey and swirls of milky cloud weaved through it like sweet, pale snakes. It was cold enough to snow. I was so happy I felt bigger than the towering skyscrapers.

"Come on." Gerard broke my daydream by pulling at my sleeve, his breath smoky and tainted on the chilly, fresh air. I reluctantly tagged along behind him and Mikey, my hands and feet numb from the cold. I kicked a can as I went until I found the nearest public trash can and threw it in like I was a major professional basketball player, imitating a crowd cheer afterwards. The little things in life amused me. I was always very short so I could never play basketball without losing badly, but I could dream, that's what life is about, dreams. Gerard soon took off to scan the shops alone, leaving Mikey and I alone. Mikey had close to no money but he said he would scrape something together for Gerard and my presents. I blushed. It was nice of him to care even though he was still I college and only had a part-time job at a little bakery back home. I traced the bumps in the bricks that made up a bookshop wall as bustling crowds rushed past my back, causing me to knock my jaw against the wall and scream in agony. I don't think Mikey could hear me from inside the store so I pushed my way against the wall and in through the glass doors.

Gradually, the noise from the bustling streets outside faded into the quiet sound of pages being turned and whispers at the cash register. The book shop looked very modern, like many things in New York, with it's white curved shelves and electronic 'book finder' machines that stood in neon arc shapes on the back wall. There weren't many people, just a few college students near the 'Educational' shelves and some unusually quiet kids in the 'Fun Area', sitting on some patterned mats, staring mindlessly at their picture books ((some drool slipping out the side of their mouths in some cases)). _Parents probably dump their kids here. Would hate to be them. _There were stairs leading upstairs, to more sections most likely, but Mikey was standing next to one of the shelves so I strutted up to him, hands in pockets.

"Hey Mikey!" He nodded and kind of furrowed his brow as I realised how loud I was talking considering how quiet the shop was. I lowered my voice: "So what you looking for?" I tapped him on the shoulder but he continued to ignore me and scan the shelves with his index finger, pulling some out by the spine occasionally. After about three minutes playing with my thumbs, I sighed heavily; Mikey answered me. "I'm trying to find this fantasy book Gerard and I used to read as kids. He always pretends that all he has ever read is newspapers and comic books... But when we were kids, there was this special book," he paused and leant his forehead against the row of books and grinned, showing his tongue as it rolled to the back of his cheek. "It was about a rabbit... A rabbit that was made of velvet, all sewn together by a seamstress for her son, and everyday the rabbit would sit on the little boy's bed and wonder why he was made; to make the little boy happy? Was that his destiny? The rabbit longed to be a real bunny, he longed to frolic in fields and be carefree, but he loved the boy too much to go, and the boy loved him..." Mikey's face was still only partially visible behind his collar as his head was still against the shelf. I patted him on the back, the book seemed to bring back painful memories somehow. "Then one day," he carried on. "One day a fairy came to grant the rabbit one wish, a wish he could use to be free. But how could he leave the boy who loved him so much?" Mikey looked distant as he spoke. A lump built in my throat, he wasn't himself, he seemed like such a troubled and vulnerable soul right now; he didn't have that hard shell of protection he wore around everybody normally. "But we never found out the ending, did the rabbit chase his dream of being free, or did he stay with his loved one? So I want to get it for Gerard, for Christmas." He cleared his throat and smiled.

"What was it called?" I had a concerned expression as Mikey lifted his head and turned to face me. "Velvet Dreamer... That was the title." I bit my lip and, abruptly, walked towards the only till. I politely asked the lady there about the book. She wasn't the typical sort you would find in a book store. She had tattoos running down her arms; mermaids, spiritual symbols etc, with skin evenly tanned. Her hair was shaved on one side but about waist length on the other and it was a dyed, bold red, the kind of red Gerard had joked about dying his hair. Her septum was pierced and so were her ears, all the way up and she wore earrings that looked like tiny, precious gemstones. Her pencil skirt seemed to tighten as she got up and showed me to one of the bookcases, her white blouse doing the same. _Why am I noticing so much about her?_ She pulled an old fashioned, beige coloured book out of the top row of books on this particular shelf and brushed it off with her palm. The title 'Velvet Dreamer' was written in gold print on the cover with a tiny, ink illustration of a Victorian toy bunny rabbit, slumped with floppy ears. _Mikey and Gerard weren't this old. Maybe it was passed down from their parents or grandparents?_ The girl smiled and, for the first time, spoke:_  
_

"This is an old one, a donation I think, take good care of it, it's lucky you got here before somebody bought it..." I coughed into my hand and smiled a lopsided smile. "Yeah... Thanks, it means a lot to my friend, Mikey." The girl smiled again and nodded. As if on cue, Mikey emerged from behind a group of chuckling middle-aged women (reading a kinky novel, no doubt) and ran up to me, grabbing the book and nearly bursting into tears. The girl went back to her desk and I watched her leave, but not like _**that**_, I was just thinking of how nice she was, but I really wasn't ready to ask her out or anything. I regret that a lot. By the time Mikey was paying for the book it was too late, the girl's shift was over. I pretended to myself that I didn't care.


	7. Chapter 7

After about two hours of hopping from shop to shop I finally found some embarrassing sweaters for Mikey and Gerard and after Mikey had waltzed confidently into the Music store for my 'super surprise' present, I was curious as to what Gerard was doing right then. I slid my phone out of my jeans pocket and saw the red LED flash, which made me quite happy and excited although I didn't know why. One new message:

**"frank meet me at the strbucs nxt 2 the theatre:)" **

Gerard had really never been good with the whole 'text speak' thing but I gave him credit for trying. I replied:

**"Okey dokey :-)"**

I tugged at Mikey's arm as he was giving an extremely attractive young lady some directions. He didn't even live in New York so it was clear to me what he was doing. He looked disgruntled as I apologized to the girl and half-dragged, half-lead him towards a giant poster of _Les Miserables _that was plastered on the side of the big west end theatre. The sea of people made it almost impossible to move but I was determined, holding Mikey's arm with one hand (pulling him forward), and my bag with the other.

When we finally entered the Starbucks, the smell of coffee hit me like a bitter bullet through a flock of cold winter doves. The place was buzzing with energy, people screaming for their coffee at the till where a confused, teenage barista stood red-faced in a panic. Right at the back of the little cafe, a mop of jet black hair craned over a _Watchmen_ comic (which looked like it had just been bought). _Classic antisocial Gerard_. His bags, like everybody else's there, were spilling out onto the floor, but not so much that I could see what he had bought. I pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. I coughed, obviously trying to get his attention.

"It's crazy in here today!" I exclaimed over the loud chatter of other customers. Gerard nodded behind his comic. He had never liked being in public. At prom back in high school, he had thrown up behind the bins at the back of the hall because he there were so many people there. Thank God he was much better now. I loved the way he would just sit there, acknowledging me only the slightest, so wrapped up in the fictional world because of how shit the real one was. And when he jumped into his fictional world it wasn't just hard to get him out, but he would twitch every now and again and stir his coffee a bit, and sometimes he would bite his nails and twirl his hair on his finger. There was a whole bunch of things I could list forever. After staring at Gerard for a good three minutes, Mikey came and sat with us. He placed two frothing cups of hot beverage in front of us. I'm sighed with pleasure; it smelt like hot chocolate, perfect for such a cold day. Gerard put his book down and smiled, it was a warm smile that could have singlehandedly got me through numerous winters.

"I got the presents," he wiped his nose on his hoodie and sniffled. "What about you guys?" I nodded along with a faint _mm hmm, _biting my lip until it was numb, then taking a sip of my drink and slouching back on my chair. Mikey had already finished his whole cupful. _That was quick._ Mikey and Gerard were talking about some comic again, Gerard making way too many hand gestures. They were so engrossed in conversation, but as always I wasn't there at the table. I was somewhere else. I was so distant in my mind. A shiver laced down my spine. It was freezing, in here too. I had to keep my coat on and huddle myself for warmth. I felt so alone, even in a room full of people. I felt lost.

We stepped out of the train station at our house. It looked like it was going to snow and I felt my whole face go numb. I barely had the will to stand any more. I looked up at the sky; beautiful in a deadly way. I couldn't understand at first, but I fell to my knees. The frosty breeze bit at my cracking lips and my eyes almost collapsed shut. My jeans almost ripped on the hard concrete. "Frankster, you okay?" Gerard rushed up to me and knelt beside me, wrapping his leather jacket around me. I shivered, rapidly this time.

The rest of the way home, Mikey and Gerard had to half carry me by the arms, like they do when somebody gets hurt in the movies, but I wasn't hurt. I was just tired; tired of everything.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: I'm sorry for any common typing/grammar mistakes! It's just that I really should start proof-reading and I don't :( I'm sorry :( But hope you enjoy reading! :)**

**~tara Xo**

I slept in the next day. It was the day before Christmas eve and I had a really bad fever; I guess I've always been fragile and sickly as a child and it carried on into adulthood. Sometimes the fever could be life threatening but today it just felt normal. No big deal yet. Gerard and Mikey were out, they hadn't told me but I was woken when Gerard had quite noisily come into my room to borrow some socks and a few moments later I had heard the door slam shut. I figured it was better that I hadn't gone, I might have collapsed again.

I forced myself out of bed but I couldn't work up the energy to get dressed properly though. I threw on the baggy yellow t-shirt I had gotten for doing that charity marathon past year (where I nearly had an asthma attack but still came third and celebrated in the evening until I  
passed out from all the beers) and a pair of old swim trunks. It was cold out but today of all days, Gerard had left the heating on so I was fine in shorts in the apartment. We barely had any coffee left in the pot when I went to the kitchen to check and we were out of milk, so I just filled a glass of hot water and the kind of cough syrup you mix in your drink and lay down on the sofa with a tattered, baby blue blanket. I think it was Gerard's from when he was a baby.

Anyway, I turned on the TV and the new channel was, as usual, on automatically. The weather forecast had predicted snow and just as I looked out the living room window it started to rain. It normally snowed this time of year in New York. What a bummer. I hung my head over the arm of the couch and my hair felt free and not so greasy any more. We couldn't shower because Gerard hadn't paid the water bill and we'd been cut off. Sometimes I wondered if he was just cutting work like he cut classes at school. I wish I had trusted him more. Gerard just found it difficult to get himself out of bed some days; I didn't understand back then. He was a troubled kind of person.

I felt my eyelids droop down onto the bottom of my eyes. Slowly, I drifted away into slumber and dreams. I was awoken with a startle by sound of the door open and a gust of wind rush under my blanket.

'Hey Frank, we're back! We got a surprise for ya!' I perked my head up from it's flat, sleeping position. Mikey was standing in the front doorway, hands on hips and head up high, looking terribly proud of himself. I noticed that Gerard wasn't there.

"Where's Gee?" I questioned Mikey as I got up, and wrapping my blanket around myself, stood in the middle of the passage area in front of the door. Emerging from behind the door frame out in the hall, I saw a mass of green fir and a pair of hands wrapped around it. A Christmas Tree! I knew it was Gerard carrying it because I could see his red sneakers from under the trunk. I covered my mouth in surprise, almost falling over backwards. Mikey laughed whilst he directed Gerard on how to bring it in the apartment. We ended up placing it in a plant pot- for balance- near the TV. For half a minute we just gazed up at it together, baffled by how majestic it was in all it's six-foot glory. It was a lot taller than me (as everything seemed to be in this city) and the tip of it curved over at the ceiling. I smiled. It was nice. Gerard sighed,  
"So how are we gonna decorate this bad boy?"  
"I've bought some decorations today, in the car. I'll go get 'em." Mikey looked pleased with himself and walked out the door with a spring in his step. Gerard and I broke into a simultaneous giggle, calming down as we fell onto the sofa, eyes still stuck on the tree. Gerard looked at me a few times, thinking I couldn't tell. He looked genuinely happy for once.

We spent the rest of the evening decorating the Christmas tree together, and feeling pleased by the end of it. I got to turn on the fairy lights because Mikey and Gerard had put the star on top. We wrapped our presents in separate rooms so we didn't spoil the surprise, then put them under the tree after a fair bit of pointless arguing.

I slept well for the first time in a long while, that night. I even think my fever had died down. But my family weren't there so I felt kind of guilty; I just regret feeling so guilty...


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Sorry it's really not structured but the plot will really get you at the end so please keep reading! :) This isn't my best writing but I've been working like crazy by posting two chapters today! Thanks for taking the time :) I just realised how bad this is ahaha :")**

**~tara Xo**

I had slumped out of bed the next morning, determined that this Christmas would not 'bomb'. It was Christmas eve but it didn't feel like it. I rubbed my eye with the back of my hand as I walked out of my bedroom wearing an old, deep blue football jersey. Gerard was standing in front the kitchen counter with Mikey next to him. He had the biggest beaming smile on his lips, enough to make anybody melt. For once he was properly dressed in an oversized purple sweater and smart jeans and his hair was all tucked back neatly. He glanced at me and our eyes locked; for a second those hazel balls of sorrow were lit up; and then he looked down at a piece of paper in his hands, his hair covering his face once again. He tucked it slightly behind his ear but it only fell to the tip of his nose again.

"You're up early." He looked up from tee paper but he didn't move his head.  
"Yeah," I checked the clock on the wall to my left above the television; seven-thirty in the morning. "I just heard you guys in the kitchen so I wanted to get up and help you bake." I lied but managed a smile that collapsed into a half-frown in seconds flat. I fiddled with my hands and looked down, feeling so vulnerable, like a little boy in a big playground.  
"That's great, Frankie!" Mikey smoke with a more upbeat tone than Gerard had. I could feel the elephant in the room, pressure was going to built until one of us ended up screaming. I didn't know why. Perhaps Gerard was still mad at me from the numerous arguments I had tried/carried out with him in the past couple of days?

The thing is that it felt electric when we fought, like I could just get a thrill out of punching him right in the face and make him bleed. It might have sounded kinky or sadistic to anybody I told, but that's how I felt. I felt adrenaline rush through me, blood pumping fast through my cheeks when he raised his voice with me. Maybe it was just me getting my anger and frustrations out.

"I was just about to go to the corner shop or newsagent or whatever-they're usually open- and see if they have milk. We're all out..." Mikey continued, trailing off towards the end of his sentence. I suppose he felt the tension too but was leaving us alone together such a good idea with all this testosterone flying around? I didn't quite get Mikey's logic.  
"Sure." I responded almost instantly and very timidly. Mikey smiled, but he looked anxious.

Gerard placed some coins from his pocket and slammed them on the counter, not taking his eyes off me. Mikey saw that as a cue to go. This all seemed a little melodramatic to me. I heard the door shut but I didn't care to look if Mikey had left. I assumed he had so I lunged my entire body at Gerard, pinning him down on the kitchen tiles and punching him so hard in the nose, it bled the second we touched skin, or so it seemed in the moment. And I kept punching him.  
"WHY ARE YOU MAD AT ME? WHY CAN'T WE BE LIKE WE USED TO BE?" I screamed at the top of my voice in between punches. I was sure the neighbours could hear from blocks away. I may has been small but I was still pretty loud.

Before I knew it Gerard tumbled over, sending his weight on top of me, holding me to the ground. Now he had the upper hand.  
"BECAUSE YOU'RE ALWAYS NAGGING ME AND I FEEL LIKE I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" He still wasn't louder than me and it made me smile, even when he was digging his fist into my cheeks. I could pretty much feel the bruises growing on my face. He pulled me by the collar of my jersey in both hands, so that we were standing up now. After kneeling me in the stomach a few times, he dragged me to the sofa and pushed me onto it. I felt so dizzy I could have blacked out. Damn, Gerard was strong.

I reached out for every bit of energy I could manage and kicked him in right above the crotch, causing him to fall back in agony. He was on his knees now, so I grabbed him by his dark locks of hair and smashed his head onto the ground, but not very hard in my defence. Then I fell back onto the floor myself.

Everything stopped moving for a second. It was all so surreal, like something out of a movie scene. I threw my head back against the sofa seat. Gerard was opposite me, leaning back on his hands, fists scraped and nose bloody. I heard him laugh and it was infectious. Our giggles built up until we were both in hysterics. I had to admit the laughter made my ribs strain and hurt a lot at the time, but I didn't really care. It was like all my anger towards Gerard was out and all that was left was the humour and fun. I felt at my forehead and looked at my hand.  
"Holy Shit, Gee, I'm covered in blood." But Gerard didn't respond. He was looking at me and smirking but I could tell he wasn't in the room (well, mentally). Just like I wasn't most of the time. So we just sat there for a while; thinking. What we were thinking about, I couldn't tell you. But it made me happy; really happy.


	10. Chapter 10

Looking in the mirror, I was more beat-up than I thought. I had deep purple bruises all over my cheeks and my lip was split; the sleeve on my jersey was practically falling off and I tried to think back to when that might have happened I could barely stand and my chest hurt so much, my forehead had a little cut, but nothing major but dried blood had become crusty all over my hands from when I had touched it) plus my fists were battered and grazed from all the missed punches, where I had only hit the kitchen floor, full on. My teeth hurt like crazy from all the hits I'd taken to the mouth. I wondered if Gerard was this beaten up. I leaned towards the mirror and stretched the skin on my face with all four fingers (leaving my thumb to rest under my chin), causing my eye to reveal the red fleshy tissue of the eye socket; they were bloodshot. The patchy bruise around my eye was yellow. I probably had a shiner. Brushing myself off and walking into the kitchen, I stared at Gerard who was emptying a packet of flour into a bowl on the kitchen counter, bending down slightly and closely observing the powdery white pour out, in a deep concentration. I coughed and he looked up at me with daggering brownish-green eyes that turned soft within seconds. A smile swept his lips but instantly faded. He had a tiny cut on his jaw and his cheeks were so red I couldn't tell if it was from the fight or if he was blushing; I didn't cause that much damage and I was glad of it. I was never a hard punch.

"Hey," I walked over to the counter, leaning both elbows on it and leaning with my back bent and my head held up in my hands. Gerard wasn't looking at me any more. He was measuring water in a mug, but he was smiling. Turning to look at me and breathed out deeply, sounding something like laughter. "Look at you," He took me by the chin in his hand and pointing my head towards him so I was forced to look into his eyes. "You're all beat up, I'm sorry." He laughed again, this time it was clearer. I'd never heard Gerard apologize before, in fact, he was acting strange all together. Although, it still made me smile. I never even said _I _was sorry.

We spent the rest of the afternoon making the cake, retrying over and over again because we were both hopeless 'chefs'. Mikey came back home at about half-six, but to be quite honest Gerard and I didn't mind. He said that our mutual high-school friend, Ray, would be coming out to visit us for Christmas as his family were abroad this holiday and we had a lot of catching up to do. I had flour all over myself by the time the cake was baking in the oven. It looked like a chocolate tumour, but after several attempts, it was the best we could do. Christmas Eve wasn't as frantic as I remembered, back when I was a kid. We all sat on the sofa with hot chocolate, snuggled up in blankets and sipping hot chocolate. Christmas time was the only time of year you could act like a child and nobody would tell you to 'grow up'. Gerard huddled into me while we both sat on the floor in front of the TV and Mikey fell asleep on the couch. I pushed him off gently and subtly but still obvious in a way. I turned to face him. The glow of the television illuminated his face, highlighting his nose to it's tip, flooding his skin a pale white and reflected on his eyes like they were mirrors of thought. It was like you could stare right through them and read his mind. I stretched out my arms and yawned. Gerard still had some flour on his nose and I didn't want to tell him; it was cute. We watched the weather report intensely.

"Expect icy roads and heavy snow fall for Christmas day.." I doubted it.


	11. Chapter 11

Christmas Day. I woke up feeling scared for some reason, and it felt like something bad could happen any second. Rubbing my eyes, I walked over to the window and leant my head on the glass. I almost had to double take. Blankets of white, layers upon layers, rested, limp and still on rooftops as ice glazed the cars and streets, most of the snow on the ground still fresh and untouched. I spotted some children throwing snowballs and it made me smile. They looked so young and carefree, I was jealous of their lack of responsibilities and worries. They had so much time to make the most of the world and travel but they were content throwing snowballs at one another. About as sudden as the morning had come, a snowball came hurtling towards the window and landed splat in front of my face, the glass only separating its icy touch from me. I looked below to check which punk-ass kid had thrown it and I was almost ready to pick a fight when I saw Gerard's rosy-cheeked face and glistening, puppy eyes look up at me with a cheeky smile to match. I pushed the window open (proving to be somewhat of a challenge since they had never been replaced since the apartments were built). I yelled down to him:

"Hey! What are you doing, Gerar-" Before I had even finished my sentence, another snowball throttled towards me, with a lot of force, and hit me right in the middle of my face. I was stunned for a second but I couldn't help but laugh. With three of my fingers, I wiped what was now slush and water from my eyes and leant slightly out the window to see Mikey and Gerard sticking their tongues out at me and mocking me in every way possible. I pulled out some boots, stumbling and hopping to the front door, then I practically fell down the stairs into the yard outside the complex, wrapping one of Gerard's coats around myself (it was all I could find in the moment). As soon as I stepped out, everything was so light and bright. I was so self-conscious about how I looked, since I had just gotten up, but it was all so beautiful my mouth dropped ajar. Trees sparkled with diamonds of ice and frozen dew and the pavement was an iced cake, covered in about six inches of snow, at least; so untouched and pure. Then another snowball hit me in the chest and broke me out of my daydream. The culprit was Mikey this time. I sniggered and grinned a lopsided grin (or maybe it was a smirk?). Skeleton gloves on, I kneeled down and gathered snow in my hand, creating a ball and just as I was about to stand up, I lifted my head and saw somebody I hadn't seen in a while; Ray Toro.

I was kind of baffled at first, I mean; I knew he was coming to New York for Christmas but maybe I just didn't realise it _was Christmas_. This time of year was always tough as a kid, being sick whenever it got just a little bit cold, but Ray was always there when I was ill to bring me my homework so I wouldn't get in trouble or fall behind and convince me to share lunch with him when I thought I was too numb to eat. Ray always reminded me that we couldn't give up just because we weren't well and it really kept me going through school. I stood up quite abruptly and, without words, he engulfed me in a hug, patting my back at the same time.

I felt so lucky having friends I could rely on so well. We sat on the couch and just talked for a while about how life was going. Ray was getting married and planning a family; a nice house in the suburbs of NJ. Mikey hadn't told us up until then, but he was thinking about moving out of his parents' house soon and getting an apartment of his own with the money from his part time job. I felt like less of a person, sitting there, having not gone to university and barely even chasing my dreams. Gerard just sat there the whole time, watching as snowflakes fell, out the window., clasping a mug of(by now lukewarm) coffee in both of his hands and a blanket hanging off of his shoulders. He looked like he was sitting for a formal portrait, so distant and still. I wondered what he was thinking about.

We had to wait until 4pm to open presents (Mikey's dumb idea). It was already dark out by then and I was getting the shivers. Ray had brought over some beautifully wrapped gift from him and his fiancé, the beige wrapping paper was etched with gold glitter snowflakes and it made me smile because they were so neatly packaged it was obvious Ray hadn't wrapped them. Mikey's presents were laid out together in a kind of circle formation attempt, covered in pretty purple bows and masses of tape. Then there was Gerard's pile, scattered all around the base of the tree; lumpy parcels wrapped the same way as the little ones we received from him a couple of days ago. Mine were wrapped in purple tissue paper stuff, and tied with red strips I had made by cutting up my old high school tie. I felt a bit guilty for the lack of effort. As we were sitting there talking, I saw Gerard finally turn to face us out of the corner of my eye. He pulled the blanket so it covered him up more. He was sitting cross-legged by the window, which reached all the way to the ground and ceiling like a glass door that didn't open, and he spoke, voice hoarse:

"Hey guys, I think I'm gonna go take a drive." Mikey stared at Gerard and bit his lip as he spoke in understanding but whiny tone, much like a mother explaining danger to a child, "Hey, there's frost all over the roads, the car might skid-" He nearly choked on his last words while Gerard grabbed his coat and keys from the counter, rushing out the door like his life depended on it. I sighed and rolled my eyes, I thought it was just a tantrum at the time. I forced myself up off the couch. I moaned and muttered to myself. I shouted back to Ray and Mikey as I was about to close the door behind me.

"I'll go after him."


	12. Chapter 12

Gerard did his belt up as I jumped into the car. The air was cold and I could see his breath, quick with the apparent stench of strong coffee. My coat was hanging off my shoulders so I did it up, struggling as my fingers were numb from the cold.

"What do you think _you're _doing?" Gerard mumbled under his breath, burying his face in his coat and fiddling with his fingers on the steering wheel. "I wanted to know what was up with you." I frowned and expected a reason. "It's nothing really, it's just that we never talk like we used to," Gerard started the car and reversed out of his parking space, looking behind, arm around my chair. "We have so many responsibilities so it's hard to keep up sometimes." I bowed my head and we were silent as we drove up down the road, skidding every now and again at the brakes. I was expecting Gerard to drive into the city, but for about an hour we just went around in circles. I heard my phone vibrating. It was Mikey. I answered the call:

"Hey…Fr-n-" The connection was bad so I could hardly hear him. "HEY! MIKEY!" I shouted right into the speaker but got no reply. Gerard was just sitting there, not even the slightest bit concerned. He looked so smug that I wanted to hit him. He turned to me and smiled,

"Get ready, Frankie."

The phone disconnected. All of a sudden it was dark. I could hear screaming; maybe it was just the ringing in my ears. Everything was blurry for a second; the scraping of feet, running fast, on the pavement, getting closer and closer. I couldn't feel my legs; in fact I couldn't feel anything. The was some kind of red liquid splatters on the ground in front of me, I managed to look to my left and saw a smashed window. It was like the car was on its side. I wanted to tear the belt from around me and run away; far away where nothing could touch me and I could be alone. Then I saw him. Gerard wasn't moving on the floor next to me, but his eyes were wide open. I wanted to turn away so I wouldn't have to look at him; arm twisted, and nose broken. A trail of blood flowed out of his mouth, like a river of red and it stopped at my cheek, still warm. I squinted but I had to keep my eyes open. I breathed heavily. I could hear more screaming. I thought I could maybe hear Mikey's voice in the distance but it was muffled so I couldn't make out what he was saying. There was a man pulling me somewhere, and he was dressed in a paramedic uniform.

"Stay with me, son." He reminded me of my dad in some way; he looked unusually old to be a paramedic. He was tearing up as he lifted me onto a gurney and into the ambulance. The siren pierced through my head like a sharp little needle. I still couldn't move and the shock had left me speechless. They were connecting all kinds of machines to me and telling me to breathe through the mouth piece. Everything was moving in slow motion. The male paramedic was still there by my side, instructing another female paramedic on what dose of painkiller to give me. I wanted them to know that I couldn't feel anything anyway; I was too numb. Then I blacked out.

When I woke up, the glare of tube lights flooded my face, causing me to flinch and bury my head in my pillow. I was on a hospital bed, no doubt about it. My memory was hazy, but all the things I could remember were graphic. A nurse parted the curtains and placed a tray of food beside my bedside. She was dark-skinned and in her late 30s-40s with braided brunette hair and her apron was a pristine white. She spoke with a strong New Orleans accent,  
"So you're awake?" I nodded but as soon as I did, a sharp pain ran down the top half of my body. The nurse rushed to my side and supported my head whilst she fluffed my pillow and lay it back down. She smiled at me and I felt comforted by her.  
"I'm Nurse Willow."

She told me that I had been in a coma for a few days because I was in a car accident but the doctors knew I would come out of it quickly. She sat on the bed next to me and said she was here to tell me something else.  
"Listen, sweetie," she took my hand and squeezed it to comfort me some more. "You've been paralyzed from the waist down and we don't know if it's permanent but-" I was about to be physically sick. I wanted to cry and cry but I just snatched my hand away from her and let my head hang back.

"Go," I muttered. Nurse Willow looked shocked. "GO!" I shouted, still staring at the ceiling. As the curtain was parted I moved my head slightly and saw faces of doctors, nurses and other patients all turn their judgemental eyes and patronising smiles towards me. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted it all to be undone.


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: This is the last chapter! I've enjoyed writing this and I just want y'all to remember to always make the best out of the worst situations **** It's really sad in this chapter and I'll be writing some more soon! Hope you can recognize the song at the end :D Sorry, if there's any mistakes but I don't proof read for some reason I haven't been doing many ANs but okay then! Enjoy! **

**~tara Xo**

A few days had passed since the crash. Mikey parted the curtain and walked in, holding my guitar in his hands.  
"Go away, and get that fucking guitar away from me." I mumbled facing the opposite way to him and staring out the window as he placed the guitar in front of me. He looked worried but tried to manage a smile as I turned to look at him. It was light outside but the sky was cloudy and it looked like it would rain any second. The snow had all melted by now. Mikey was on the brink of tearing up, and when he spoke, it was obvious that his heart was in his throat:  
"Frank, I just thought you might want to play and cheer some of the other patients up as well…" He trailed off and looked out the window. A tear rolled down his cheek, reflecting the room in its tiny, glass-like transparency. I swallowed my stubbornness and placed my hand on his arm.  
"Mikes, what's the matter?" I spoke in the least angry voice I could manage. It couldn't have been worse than being paralyzed from the waist down for-possibly-ever. But I was wrong.

Gerard Arthur Way, 9th April 1977 to 25th December 2012. I always knew, in the back of my mind that he had died; ever since I saw his lifeless body on the pavement. I brought Mikey close to me, and we just cried; we cried for what seemed like hours and hours. Gerard's funeral was a few weeks later; after my first physiotherapy session. The doctor was nice there and we did a few exercises to help me start controlling my movement again. He explained to me that I would be able to walk, but just not as well as before and that it would take time for my body to learn how to do so again. I was okay with that, I guessed. I understood that some of the debris from the crash had squashed my legs, and since I didn't get up soon enough, my spine was damaged. I was starting to move my toes again as well. I used to think, since the crash, that I would never live out my dream of becoming a famous musician, but I felt like there was light at the end of this dark tunnel, even if I'd lost the only person I ever love in the process of getting there.

I went to the funeral in a wheelchair. The hearse drove by and it was so slow and everything was blurry. I thought back to the day of the crash as the January air cut at my cheeks like blades of ice. I buried my head in my coat. Mikey and some of Gerard's family were carrying his casket as his parents watched, weeping. I wanted to tell them it would all be okay but I had a feeling they blamed me for being alive; like I should have died instead of him. I had a feeling everybody at this funeral felt like that. I felt so unwanted.

The service was pretty plain; they had a pastor do the ceremony. It took place in an old church in New Jersey so we had to drive out there to attend. It gave me a chance to see my parents as well. They hadn't seen me since the accident and the snow had stopped them from driving out. The church was rustic looking, with high ceilings and pillars. The stained glass windows depicted the New Testament in short and they were so intricate it amazed me. We all sat in the pews. Looking around it was like a sea of weeping faces clothed in black. I didn't even recognise half the people there. The whole time, I couldn't help thinking about what it would have been like if I hadn't gotten into the car. Would Gerard still have swerved the car? And what did he mean when he said 'Get ready, Frankie'? All these thoughts were flooding my head as I sat there. Mikey was watching me from across the hall. It was time for the speeches, for people to give a few words about the effect Gerard had had on our lives. Mr and Mrs Way were too choked up to do so and it wasn't surprising. Mikey stepped up and stood in front of us all. He was half reading from a sheet of paper, which was clearly stained with tears, and half speaking from his heart.

"Gerard was my brother, and we would fight a lot but he was always there when I needed him," he stopped in between to wipe his tears with his sleeve. He managed a smile, but it was fragile and looked like it would shatter into a million pieces at any moment. "He was quiet but when we were younger he would always cheer me up when I was down and no matter what, I could count on him to stand by my side and just be a… just be a brother." I thought I could pinpoint the moment Mikey's heart ripped in half right as he walked away and straight out the church doors. Everybody else was too chocked up to say anything. Ray came and sat beside me and the room filled with muffled chatter.  
"I think you should go up there and talk." I looked at him and sighed. He nodded and nudged me as if to say _it's what Gerard would have wanted. _It was all so cliché. I gulped and, with Ray's aid, made my way up to the front. There was some more muffled chatter and gasps as the guests saw that I was about to talk. Ray could always make me get over myself and do what was right at times like these. I cleared my throat. I wasn't this sad up until now. I just wanted to escape.

"Gerard was…" I paused and closed my eyes for a second, picturing his face. I couldn't gather the words so it felt like he was a stranger that I couldn't describe if I tried. I wasn't this sad until now, it was like all the pain and the sudden realization that Gerard was no longer alive had just hit me. "He was my best friend. We moved to the city a few months back. He was all I could have ever asked for in a person. He was everything to me when I was down and he could always cheer me up. I was in and out of the hospital a lot when I was growing up and Gerard would visit me and we would play games until visiting hours were up. And every Saturday, we would go out to the park, to this specific spot that was closed off by trees, and we would talk until the stars shone bright above us." I smiled and looked up as if the stars were still there; as if Gerard was still by my side.

After the funeral, Mikey drove me home. I didn't think I'd ever be able to get in a car again but I felt brae enough after standing up and giving that speech in front of all those people. We were silent for the whole ride to my apartment back in New York. It was dark by the time we got there. He left me to go back to his place nearby; I had been discharged a while ago but this was the first time I had been back ever since. I pushed my chair to Gerard's room. It was all the same but it was cold and hollow. I was meant to be sending his stuff back to his parents' house but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I felt so angry at myself, the way I shouted at him right there in his room about something petty. Tears rolled down my cheeks and I couldn't stop them. I pulled down all the posters from the walls and ripped them apart. The paper sliced my hands but the stinging just made me angrier. I wanted to tear everything apart but I was too weak. I couldn't see through my tears. Was there even any hope left? I just wanted to fall out my chair and die on the floor, right then and there. I took in a deep breath, and then I noticed it.

Tucked away on the windowsill was a picture frame. It had the photo from Prom in it. Gerard didn't have a date that night so I ditched mine for him. It seemed cruel at the time but it made me smile. The thing is that when somebody so close to you dies, you just want to cry and cry and cry until you hopefully just fall asleep and never wake up, but you've just got to remember those moments that you took for granted when you were with them. I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Gerard's bedside table and started to write:

_Things I love about Gerard:_

_His laugh when he snorted _

_The way he would watch reruns of Gossip Girl when he was sad_

_When he watched the news repeat itself for a whole day and tell me about it when I got home from work_

_When he brought me home a cupcake after work because he wanted to_

_How he walked up stairs two steps at a time_

_The way he would brush his hair with his left hand_

_The stench of coffee on his breath _

_How he had to have the TV volume on an even number_

_How he would always play the Foo Fighters cassette in the car on Wednesdays_

_His hugs_

Tears fell onto the page as I wrote. I folded the piece of paper and placed it on his bed, which was still messy from the last time he had gotten up and not made it, and left, closing the door behind me, the room engulfed by darkness once more. I pushed my chair to my room and tried to change out of my suit into a t-shirt and track pants. It was a challenge but I was starting to get a sensation in my toes so there was still hope. I smiled to myself and after about thirty minutes of struggling into my pants, I noticed a little, messily-wrapped package on my pillow. I recognised it in an instant. I picked it up and turned over the tag that was attached to it. It read: _  
To My Best Friend who was like a brother to me, I'm so sorry – Gerard_

He knew what he was going to do that afternoon. He was suicidal. I held the package to my heart for a while as I took it the living room. I transferred myself to the couch and picked up my guitar, which was leaning against it. I had taped the pick with my name on it that Gerard had given me to the neck. I was about to play but I was nervous. The only audience I had was whoever was watching over me; I never believed in heaven but if it did exist, Gerard was there right now. I gazed out the window at the starry sky for a while and thought about what I was going to play until, out of the corner of my eye, beside me, I saw the package, about the size of my hand, or maybe a bit more. I opened it delicately and saw what was inside. It was a little canvas and painted on it was a man playing guitar while sitting on a stool. He had a beige jacket with elbow patches and hair that covered most of his face. The guitar looked just like mine, brown and worn. And on the bottom of the painting were the words _I'm Sorry _with Gerard's signature. I was all out of tears for today so I stood it up on the coffee table in front of me so I could see it. I almost dropped my guitar because I couldn't feel it resting on my legs. I had a bit of a laughing fit; just like the ones we had when Gerard was around. Then I started to play a tune we had written a couple of years back that we had both always loved,

'_Well I was there on the day they sold the cars for the queen…'_


End file.
